


About Your Father

by Jazzstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Father-Daughter Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Military Families, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzstiel/pseuds/Jazzstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years have passed since Dean dealt with accepting the role of a single father, with losing the love of his life, and with knowing that things would never go back to the way they were before. But Claire just wants to know about her other father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Your Father

“What was he like?”

Dean stopped in the doorway before shutting off the light. He turned to see the bright-faced young girl in the bed, who he had told only moments ago to get to sleep.

It wasn't that Dean didn't know what she was asking, but rather that he did and the question threw him off. He knew all too well why she was asking about her father, her other father. It was because Dean never talked about him, at least not anymore and never to Claire.

“Dad. I know he's gone. I just want to know what he was like,” her soft voice pleaded from behind him. He turned slowly to glance at her over his shoulder and see her small, innocent face, rosy pink cheeks, and neatly brushed blonde hair peeking out from the covers. Dean sighed.

He wanted to blame her for bringing it up- bringing him up- but he knew the only one to blame was himself. Cas was gone and Dean was the one keeping him gone by not talking about him.

It wouldn't change anything, talking, but Dean had convinced himself long ago that it was too painful to do so.

“Please,” Claire said softly. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and turned towards her. He walked slowly to the side of her bed and sat on the edge carefully. His hands met and clasped together, resting between his knees.

“You want to know about your father?” he asked slowly. Claire nodded. Dean shook his head softly, understandingly. He didn't blame Claire anymore, not like he used to when she would ask. She didn't understand. How could she? She was 8 years old and hadn't seen Cas in 5 years.

“Cas, your father, was… a good man. He was always thinking of others. Especially you, Claire,” Dean said quietly. He knew once he let himself start to remember the man he'd fallen in love with, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Claire smiled and waited patiently for him to go on.

“And he had these bright blue eyes, like yours, but he had a mess of dark hair... He liked old movies, like me, and that was our first date,” Dean smirked to himself, “We had a movie marathon. Wild West movies and stuff. He used to try and get you to watch them as a baby but you would start crying and we'd have to change it to something with lots of colors and characters. But Cas was a good father and he always just wanted to make you happy. I remember he would cook three different meals just to make what you wanted perfect.” The words were coming out from somewhere inside of Dean that he hadn't been to in a long time.

“We used to go this bakery just to smell all the freshly made pies and scones and sometimes Cas would insist that we buy one just because. He would drag me out to nice restaurants, and I would drag him to burger joints and dives. He liked to sit shotgun when we went on drives because he liked to admire the views and focus on the music. He'd get so focused on things that I'd almost lose him to his thoughts sometimes and have to call him back to reality. He would get this look on his face like he was in another world entirely.” Dean laughed softly to himself.

“He liked to wear this tan trenchcoat when he went to work and I always told him that he looked like an accountant rather than a marine but… he always did look great in that coat.” Dean was staring at his folded hands carefully as he thought, his mind racing but with little effort. It was all coming back to him so easily.

“We had a weekend routine where we would spend Saturday nights with takeout and a movie. Every Sunday, Cas would make breakfast and he'd read the paper while we had our coffee. He liked simple. That's why when he agreed to adopting you, I was surprised. I knew he'd be a great father but I just… I suppose he was always surprising me.”

Claire was quiet as he spoke, listening carefully and quietly, taking everything in. Dean didn’t know who he was talking to anymore. At first, he’d only opened his mouth because it had been what Claire wanted, but as he went on he realized it was something he needed.

“He was always determined. That’s why I think he took the position overseas. If I had known what was gonna happen I never would have let him take the job. But even if I had told him not to, he would have fought with me until I let him. He was always fighting. Whether it was an enemy soldier or... his own mind, your father was a fighter. He was so brave… Even until the end.”

“Dad,” Claire squeaked, interrupting the man, “you're crying.” Dean felt her small hand reach out for his own tangled hands and he cherished her sweet gesture. His vision had blurred from the tears threatening to fall.

Claire reached for his face and grazed her small hand across his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped his eye.

“He'd be so proud of you, you know,” Dean said at last, holding Claire’s hand against his cheek.

“I know.”

Dean smiled. The girl that had been his husband's entire world, hardly remembered him at all. But she knew he had loved her.

Dean took her hand and pressed a kiss against her soft skin. She giggled when he re-tucked her in under pink sheets and a purple comforter and then patted her cheek.

He got up and walked to the door, his hand reintroducing itself to the light switch. He clicked off the light and gave one last look at the little girl in the bed.

“When did you get to be such an adult?” Dean asked half-teasingly. Claire smiled and Dean could see how much she was like her father. She was loving and trusting and smart and brave like him.

He could see it in her eyes and her heart and soul, which to Dean shone brighter than anything at all.


End file.
